Dead Passive
by Dead Passive
Summary: I own nothing, sadly. They are just play things for my creative web. Rated M for M/M, infrequent use of bad language and suicidal overtones throughout. Angsty Romance ahead. This is my first Heroes Fic, please R&R. Enjoy. DP
1. Empty Souls

The former Company man looked down from his position on the ledge and felt reasonably satisfied. His knees had bucked countless times, his hands shook and sweat poured off him as he peered over the edge again. _Pull yourself together, all it takes is one step, and it's all over. _He'd been telling himself over and over for the last 10 minutes that everything would be all over if he had the courage to take that final step. _This is stupid, I want this so much, but I can't bring myself to do it. _His intention to end his life had ground to a halt, it wasn't that he was afraid of heights; a true Company man wouldn't let a little irrational fear like that get in his way. But he _wasn't _a Company man anymore and hadn't been for a long time now. Ultimately, as he stood shaking on the roof of Building 26, he was nothing. He had nothing; he was no one, a nobody too afraid to take the final step towards ending his own personal hell.

The niggling voices in his head fed him the fuel for the fire that burnt in the pit of his stomach. _Face it, no one would miss you. They've all abandoned you, any love they once had for you has long since dried up. Jump, end it, the misery for you and your family. _A sob wracked his body and tears spilled from his sparkling blue eyes. Noah collapsed against the wall, before he slid down it. He pulled his knees up to his chest and he sobbed into his hands for what felt like forever. As one sleeve fell down, he caught a glimpse of his wrist. _That'll do, if you're too chicken to jump. _His heart raced as he pulled out his car keys and held it against his wrist. He let out a gasp as he dragged it across, causing blood to spill out. Each time he did it; he went deeper and pulled the key across faster with each sweep. He choked back the tears as he hit a bone. Was this what his life had come to? Sitting on a rooftop, too scared to jump, hacking his wrist into submission? He wasn't sure whether he hoped unconsciousness would sweep him off his feet before the pain forced him to jump just to end the misery.

It was at that moment, he thought he heard someone clearing their throat on the other side on the rooftop. On looking, he saw no one, but there was one person it could well be. That was, until he remembered that his sources told him he had fled to England to get away from his past. _If only it were that simple. Then you wouldn't be in this predicament, would you? _Noah closed his eyes and pushed the thought of someone else being on the roof out of his mind. He briefly considered phoning someone, just in the vain hope that they would say something so callous and cold hearted that he would feel compelled to jump. Not that anyone had the time for him anymore... He'd lost his wife, his family, his job, his friends, but most importantly to him, he had lost control. It was probably the latter which had led to the chain of events that followed. Saddened and hurt, he dragged the key across one last time and welcomed the relief that washed over him. As it did, a variety of faces flashed before his eyes, each one containing a different story that had led him deeper into his depression; Sandra, Claire, Angela, Claude, Elle, Lauren, Danko, Matt, Thompson, Sylar.

Sandra; the moment he heard his wife had supposedly travelled to Washington, Noah should have twigged that something wasn't right. Sandra had never come to him when he was out on assignment or when he was working. Why he thought that particular day was any different, he would never know but just the thought of seeing her after so long away from her was a welcome relief. The moment she thrust the brown paper envelope into his hands, he should have had at least an inkling as to what it contained, even if it had come as a shock to him. Noah's chest had constricted with each and every insult 'Sandra' had thrown at him, "I don't love you anymore" had cut the deepest however. All things considered, pointing his loaded gun at his wife was not the best way to handle things. As she spoke, at first it was only things that could have been easily looked up "Your mother's name is Anita, we honeymooned in Puerto Vallarta." Sylar would have been able to pick those facts, memories from his mind if he had wanted to. "You sleep on your left side." That would have required a little more skill, and seeing as Claude and he had never met, he figured it needed too much finesse for Sylar's complex mind. "And your joints ache when it rains." That had been the kicker, the absolute icing on the cake. Only he and Sandra knew that. Many a time he had complained to her about being in agony when it rained, and time after time she had agreed to massage him back to good health. But it had been Lyle's phone call that confirmed to him that he had in fact willingly pointed a loaded gun at his wife and threatened to kill her.  
He understood fully why she had attacked him, thrown him out of the room and told him it was over. If he had been on the receiving end he most certainly would have done the same thing, but then again, he wouldn't have been foolish enough to hurt his wife the way he had done if he were in her shoes. Having already thrown him out of the house once before, he knew she meant every word of it. Sadly, he had given Sylar want he wanted; his misery on a plate. After 22 years of marriage, built on lies and deceit, facades and false promises finally crashed and burnt. His ship had long since sailed, Sandra had moved on. All those years of not having him around, to care for her, love her and be the husband she had longed for were long forgotten. Every trace of him had gone; all his clothes had been thrown out, pictures had been hidden, she no longer wore her wedding ring and she certainly didn't call his name out when she made love to Doug. The only living reminder of Noah was that of their biological son Lyle, but he was the polar opposite of Noah, Sandra thanked god for her son, but even more so that he wasn't like his father.

Claire; Noah had lost count how many times he'd let Claire down, hurt her or put someone else before her. Despite all his best efforts, he had to admit that there were times when she would have been better off with Nathan. Yes, Nathan hadn't accepted the responsibilities at first, but there were times when he would have been a much more stable base for growing up around than the former Company man. He had prayed to god for a child, and he had that wish granted but it had been him who was unable to keep his daughter from harm. His biggest and worst failing, he conceded had to be letting that monster get his hands on Claire, not once but twice. Homecoming; he should have been there for his little girl, but where was he? He had been working with Lauren, trying to put an end to Sylar, by any means necessary. He could only count his blessings that Peter had been there to stop him before he got what he wanted. Going back for Peter had been a worthy cause, especially after what he had just done for Noah.  
The second encounter, he had been less fortunate. Sylar hit when only Claire was in, taking the liberty of removing the top of her skull to 'acquaint' himself with her power. Of course, he had been powerless; trapped in a glass box watched by the Bishops like a hunter stalking its prey. Even if he had wanted to, he couldn't help Claire when she needed him the most and that was what hurt the most. All her life, he had been there, to dry her eyes, to cheer her up and to help her. But the one time, the only time she had really needed Noah, he wasn't there. And to him, that was the ultimate let down. He'd taken two bullets for her, but even that didn't seem to come close to the pain and heartache she had been exposed to, and as he saw it, it never would.


	2. Mostly Memories

Angela; the first and only Petrelli he had ever really trusted, Angela was his oldest and best friend. She had always been there for him, she had been that friendly face in the Company you could trust. Unspoken rules and unspeakable promises had been made, and honoured by the two over the years but he wouldn't change it for the world. She looked out for him, and he did the same for her, it was just the right order of things. He had to admit, there were times when they could have been become so much more than just friends, but he always managed to keep his head when things had heated up. Furthermore, he had Sandra, he wasn't going to ruin everything with her because his boss fancied him.  
Following the breakdown of his marriage, Angela had told him to take some time, get his head in order and take some time to grieve essentially. She had warned him that he was volatile and vulnerable, but he had refused to listen to her. A point well proved, he remembered miserably when he lost it in front of her. He had accused her of not caring about him or her sons, he told her how he was all just a pawn in her game and she had never thought better of him for the work he did. It was the point where he had raised his voice and gained a familiar, angry glint in his eye that Angela had told him she thought it was best if they didn't see each other for a while. Like a lover being blown off, he skulked away knowing that she had said, with some conviction, that she never wanted to see him again.

Claude; Noah had respected Claude hugely; working with him had been the most fun, but trying of times. Claude had a way to make everything seem to mean nothing to him, he could detach himself from a situation so easily and Noah had always envied that. He mulled things over for days afterwards, continued to beat himself up over something unavoidable or unpredictable. That was just his nature, and Claude had seized every opportunity to rib him about it. To him, Noah would always be the rookie and he would be the master, no matter what. Until the moment Claude betrayed the Company and Noah had to do the right thing by everyone. It wasn't a particularly easy task for him, but he knew it had to be him that did it. Noah missed Claude, shooting him had been a necessary evil, but it didn't mean he had enjoyed it. He had effectively condemned his friend to death, and he hated himself for it. He would have given anything to have Claude back, as he sprawled out on the rooftop.

Elle; the person who had helped find, and turn Gabriel Gray into a monster, had fallen by his hands and Noah missed her so much. They were both responsible for making Gray into the killing machine he had become, but Elle had not deserved to fall for him then fall foul of him. Watching Elle and Sylar together down the scope of his sniper rifle, he had felt sick. Of all the people to fall for she had picked the most devious, horrendous monster going, and he made it well known that she was nothing to him. Noah remembered meeting Elle in the Company building a couple of times, he had liked her but thought that she deserved so much more than the Plexiglas cell she had grown up in. She had been a good kid, slightly misguided and desensitized, Bob had seen to that. But when Noah had ended up behind the glass, she had checked up on him, looked after him in a way and he would never forget that. The day he heard what Sylar had done to her; slicing her head open despite already possessing her power and then burning her body, Noah had never wanted to kill that son of a bitch more than ever; he wanted to avenge Elle's death.

Lauren; continuing with his Company theme, Lauren had been special. For years, they visited the Burnt Toast Diner for the worst pancakes either of them had ever tasted. She had alluded to liking him as more than just colleagues, but he had tried to look past that. He had Sandra at the time and he hadn't needed to complicate the working relationship with the woman he respected. She had taken the lead, offered him her room key and he had taken her up on it, just not in the way she had initially hoped. He had kicked himself afterwards, regretted the decision he had made but once he found out she had called in the services of the Haitian, he knew nothing could ever happen after that. He missed Lauren, he missed being able to talk to her about anything and he missed being able to start each day gazing into her eyes.

Matt; Noah still seethed every time he thought about what Parkman, Petrelli and Suresh did to him in that motel room. Suresh and Peter had been there, and although they didn't really try to stop Matt, Noah didn't place blame on them. Matt had tied him to the chair, twice. Matt had ripped the memories from him in the most painful manner available to him. Matt had subjected him to absolute torture for hours, something that very nearly killed him. Parkman had abused his powers, psychological torture ranked highly on the absolute power corrupts list. If Parkman hadn't tore each piece of information from him in such a violent manner, he might have been a little more forthcoming and volunteered it instead. The drugging, the beating, the threat of having a gun shoved in his face hammered home to Noah just how terrifying it must have been for those who he had accosted over his time with the Company.

Danko; he was the very man that had forced Noah on the run. Without Danko's intervention and his betrayal by siding with Sylar, Noah might not have ended up losing everything. He had known trusting Danko would be a big mistake, but he was just following orders. That said, it was following orders that very nearly got him killed when Danko's men turned their weapons on him after shooting who he thought was Sylar in disguise. He hadn't hated Danko enough to wish death on him, but when he found his mutilated body, two feelings had flooded over him. One had been the obvious sorrow, but the second he had kept hidden, in fear of anyone else finding out and that had been relief. The relief had washed over him because his fickle friend was no longer a problem. With Danko dead, Noah could take pleasure in remembering how he had played him at his own game; pretending to be Sylar who had shape shifted into Noah had been the most fun he had ever had at work.

Thompson; Noah blamed him for everything. If he had never met Thompson, he never would have joined the Company, he never would have left his wife in the situations he had done, he never would have ruined a 22 year marriage through lies and he certainly wouldn't have been on a roof contemplating ending his life. Thompson had made sure the Company became Noah's life, he pushed and pushed, and Noah had taken it all on board and given more than enough dedication over the years. That might have been why bringing down the Company had been such an easy decision for him, and it had been even easier to put a bullet in the back of Thompson. Given the choice of letting Thompson kill Parkman, or killing his boss before that happened, he would have always picked killing his boss, because there had always been something underhanded and devious about Thompson; even his agendas had ulterior motives. That was why, killing Thompson had been a necessary evil, and one Noah should have done long before.

Sylar; he was, the only human being that Noah had ever wished death upon. He was a serious piece of work, who only seemed to get stronger, to the point where he was virtually untouchable; and god did he know it. Flaunting his new powers in front of Noah had been a sure fire way to rile him, but the icing had been him violating Claire for her power. He should have known that Sylar was a cunning bastard, but he had never really thought that he would so openly affect Claire. The day he had taken her power, Noah had wanted to tear him limb for limb. For many years, Noah had hunted Sylar and he had nearly nailed him, on countless occasions, but Sylar wasn't one for staying dead it seemed. Sylar always seemed to be two steps ahead of Noah, every move he made had been meticulously planned out and executed in such a manner that Noah was made the laughing stock of every situation.


	3. Truth Or Consequence

Sighing deeply, only moments had passed whilst Noah had revisited each person, each memory and remembered what he used to have. Taking a look at his bloodied wrist, his breath caught in his throat. At that point, a breeze spiralled around him, a familiar breeze. "Claude, is that you?" He mustered only a whisper, his eyes tried to focus on a particular part of the roof but his clouded eyes had other ideas. Silence enveloped him, then again he was pinning all his hopes to one invisible man, _his _invisible man being exactly where he needed him, when he needed him most. If Claude had been there, he said nothing and stayed as still as a statue. Noah sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He noticed the congealing blood on his arm and the same voice from before started up _you're a coward. You haven't even finished what you started, the pain was too much, sissy. Couldn't even cut your own wrists properly. _Angrily, Noah bared his teeth and hit the concrete fiercely, on impact his knuckles crunched and he yelped out in pain. Nursing his hand, he spotted what appeared to be two shattered knuckles and more blood spilled over.

Still, the pain in his wrist and the new pain in his knuckles detracted from the dull ache between his legs. It was the kind of ache brought on by at least one of the memories he had conjured up, just who the culprit was remained to be seen. It could have been any one of three Noah supposed silently, maybe four depending on how hard he squinted. He had hoped, in vain it seemed, that when Sandra left him, she would take his libido with her. But he hadn't been so fortunate, as he sat miserably on the rooftop, it mocked him relentlessly. It had gotten the better of him one night, and he had been reduced to touching _himself _to make it go away, after trying everything he could think of. He lay in bed wearing only a cotton shirt and a pair of boxers, he had been reading but his mind had started to wander and he found himself in an awkward position. When it became apparent there was only one way to end the torment, he let out a shallow sigh and resigned himself to what was about to happen.

First, he just rested his hand under the covers before resting it on his thigh. After a few moments he was able to slide his hand down the front of his boxers. The moment his hand connected, he was jolted back to his teenage years, remembering how embarrassed he had felt the first time. As vile an act as he felt it was, he couldn't deny how wonderful it was to feel the pain lifting with each stroke. Noah choked back a sob as he remembered his first self-gratuitous experience; he remembered the awkwardness of it all, followed by sheer and complete release, with utter shame hot on its heels. The worst bit had been explaining to his mother why she had to wash his bed sheets, he watched as she silently judged her son before sitting him down to discuss the merits and sinful truth behind it all. It had been a conversation that his fourteen year old self had not needed and it had been enough to put him off it for a very long time. Anyway, he had Sandra for when he felt low or when he felt horny. He hadn't needed to pleasure himself in such a self-righteous manner, until now.

When he got into a rhythm, he had thrown his head back against the pillow and it had been then that he thought he heard a laugh emanate from the other side of the room. Freezing instantly, his eyes snapped open and he scanned the room, finding no visible sources, he shook his head slowly and carried on. It was only when he felt an invisible hand on his shoulder, one that drifted down to his stomach and beyond that his hips bucked helplessly and he let go of himself. He could have sworn that the hand belonged to Claude; it was a hand he was familiar with, invisible or otherwise. As he let go, he was sure he heard another laugh, less conceited this time, more mellow, but he chose to ignore it. If, by some small chance, there was an invisible man in the room with him, he certainly didn't need his ego inflating anymore by knowing it was him Noah had pictured when he touched himself.

But as he sat on the rooftop, too afraid to move he knew he could hardly repeat the act up here. Instead, he bit on his bottom lip and tried to force the thought as far from his memory as possible. Needless to say, the more he thought about forgetting, the harder it became to not think about it. Sighing, he stared at his wrist again, the bone was already exposed in several places and the blood still seeped out of the deepest cut. Taking his keys between his twisted knuckles, he ran it over the cut and did it twice more before he felt a hand, _his_ hand, on his chest. "I can't let you do this." The voice took him by surprise, so much so he scrambled to his feet and gripped the ledge. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't jump..?"  
"I'm here, isn't that a reason in itself?" It hit him, just who he was faced with, even in his invisible state and after all this time, he hadn't lost his edge.  
"Cl...Claude, is that really you?"  
"I'm as bloody real as can be, mate." With that, he shimmered into view in front of Noah, he hadn't changed much over the years; he'd lost weight and grown a beard, everything else had stayed the same. Noah's shoulders sagged, he knew Claude being there was enough of an incentive not to jump but still he remained frozen to the spot. That said, he couldn't find it in himself to step away from the ledge. The next thing to register with him was Claude's fist hammering into his jaw. It had the desired effect, as Noah staggered backwards before he hit the wall and stopped dead.  
"What the hell..?"

"Couple of reasons, really mate; you shooting me, you tasering me, not to mention you leaving me to die and...I had to get you away from that ledge somehow..." Claude's eyes seemed to hide a wave of emotion that he really didn't want Noah to see, but his words had conveyed all the sentiment that Noah had needed to hear. "What the hell has gotten into you, mate? The old Rookie would never have come up here, with the intention of ending it all..."  
"Things change, people change Claude." Noah spat vehemently.  
"You didn't change, the whole time I knew you Rookie, what gives?"  
"Having children changes a man, losing your job, your house, your friends, and your family, that changes a guy Claude. Always having to look over my shoulder, wherever I go, I'm tired of it." Claude stepped towards him and his gaze met Noah's.  
"Had it rough then, Rookie? You want to try bleeding rough, being shot and left to die, having to make myself invisible so that you wouldn't find me again..."  
"Make it all about you, why don't you? That's all you ever did, I don't know why I'm surprised." Noah's gaze dropped to the floor and he sighed.  
"It was never all about me Rookie and you know it. Tell me about it then; tell me what it is that made you snap. Come on Rookie, the floor is all yours."  
"I let everyone down, I hurt them, I lied to them, I pushed them away. I lost my job, my friends, everything. But it was losing Sandra that hurt the most. I thought I could handle it, I really did but I'm just not strong enough." Claude stayed silent for a moment before stepped closer still, before he pushed Noah against the wall.  
"The little lady left you, did she?" He nodded softly. "And why's that then, Rookie? Must have been a biggie to kiss goodbye to 22 years of marriage..."  
"What would you know about it, Claude?"

"Oh, yeah that's right Rookie. I have never been in love, have I? I've never felt real, deep emotions, have I? We can't all wear our hearts on our bloody sleeves, Rookie; we can't all be the romantic type like you. 'Cept that didn't work, if she left..." Silently, Claude cursed himself for saying that, the idea had been to win Noah around, not push him into jumping anyway. "I'm sorry, Rook, that was uncalled for. But you know that I have feelings too, it can't be easy for you with Sandra and the kids taking off like that?"  
"I brought it on myself, I threatened her, I lied to her and it caught up with me."  
"You...you threatened her?" Claude cocked an eyebrow but stayed silent.  
"Sylar...Shape shifted into her and handed me divorce papers..." He couldn't bring himself to finish, instead he felt a sob wrack his body. Claude silenced him by running a hand along his chest and rested it on his shoulder. "Pull yourself together Rookie..."  
"Stop calling me that, you know I hate it when you call me that." Claude chuckled heartily before he smiled at Noah. "Alright, alright don't go pulling the bloody puppy eyes on me, Noah."  
"I remember, the first time, you called _that _out." Claude sniggered, recalling the memory well.  
"Only because you bleeding thumped me so hard I thought you'd shattered my jaw! I had no choice but to obey..." Claude's smile softened and Noah knew he was reliving the events as if they had happened only yesterday.  
"You don't need everyone else, you've got me." His voice seemed strangely sombre.  
"Until you do a disappearing act on me, that is." Claude feigned mock upset before he replied.  
"Oh come on, give me some credit Noah. I'm a different man now..." Noah had wanted to question it, to ask about the changes Claude could have possibly undergone whilst being invisible, but his mind spun as images of all the good, great and frankly mind blowing memories with Claude flashed by.


	4. For All These Times

The first; Claude and he sat in a cheap motel room, miles from civilisation. They had been sent there to bag and tag a suspected Empathic, but he had other ideas it seemed, after hours of chasing dead ends they had abandoned the mission for the night. The motel room had been a welcome sanctuary; bitter winds and ice cold temperatures had made for interesting conditions to bag and tag in. In the room, Claude hadn't hesitated to show his true colours; his temper had gotten the better of him and he had hit the nearest object. Unfortunately for him, that had been Noah, who had not thought twice about hurling Claude against the wall. "You do that again, and I'll put you through the wall, ok?" Claude had spat some insult back at Noah before he slid down the wall and slunk over to the mini bar. Living up to its name, the bottles inside were of miniscule proportions. Claude plucked them all out and deposited them on the bed. "How is that going to help things?" Noah had asked as he had twisted the cap off one little Vodka bottle and downed it in one. "It's not, but at least I won't be able to remember this bleeding disaster. Chin chin Rookie..?" He raised a bottle in his direction but Noah had politely declined.

Later that night, after Claude had drunk the mini bar dry, Noah felt the bed sag as Claude flopped onto it. He didn't bother to acknowledge Claude, he simply ignored him as he stretched out across the bed and prodded Noah. "You awake, Rookie? Come on, wake up, I'm bloody bored here..."  
"I'm sleeping." Noah said shortly, keeping his eyes shut.  
"...Clearly. Come on...I'm bored and very slightly drunk." A point he emphasised as he hiccupped.  
"Leave me alone Claude, I'm trying to sleep." Needless to say, Claude didn't stop. Relentlessly, he poked and prodded, irritated and annoyed Noah, but his parenting skills came in handy as he ignored Claude's whingeing. Eventually, he had either given up and gone to sleep or the alcohol in his system had taken a hold of him.

The Second; Claude and he had just completed a bag and tag mission. To celebrate, Claude had helped himself to a large bottle of Whiskey from the bar downstairs; a 'perk' of the job, as he told himself. Noah had said no, and had showered before going to bed. He told Claude he wanted an early night for the drive back home, except Claude hadn't been able to process that properly in his drunken state and had done his utmost to keep Noah from sleeping. Trying every trick in the book, Claude had Noah right where he wanted him as he gave him the bottle. Allowing him only one sip, Noah had pulled a face once the Whiskey hit him and had asked Claude for more. "That's what I like about this stuff..." Claude had said, tapping the bottle gently. "It's guaranteed to get the desired effect. I find, begging for it would work..."  
"Not a chance, I'm not that desperate for a drink." Claude disappeared and proved him wrong when he appeared moments later brandishing another bottle. "If anyone finds out..."  
"Why would they? Do they know I'm an invisible man? Thought not, Rookie...Now, weren't you about to do something? Oh yeah, beg..." Noah had shook him head but as he watched Claude drink more and more of the stuff, he felt a burning desire to grab the bottle from him and down it in one. Noah waited until Claude looked like he had let his guard down slightly before he lunged across the bed and grabbed Claude's wrist. "Oh yeah, looks like you're not bloody desperate either mate..." Claude took hold of Noah's wrist and let the bottle tumble between them as he shoved Noah against the bed.

"Want to explain?" Noah shook his head but Claude pinned both wrists to the bed and leant closer to him, so close in fact that Noah could smell the perfect mixture of cheap aftershave he doused himself in every day and the sour scent of whiskey heavy on his breath. "Nice stunt, shame you were too bloody slow mate. I'd of expected more from someone as perceptive as you Rookie..." Noah growled slightly, as he had tried to throw Claude off balance and gain the upper hand, but he was a lot stronger than he looked. "Not likely, I'd stop if I were you. You either beg for it or things get that little bit more un-bloody-comfortable for you, which is it Rookie?" Noah could count the times he'd begged for anything in his life on one hand; something Claude couldn't quite match, so he sure as hell wasn't going to beg for a bottle of Whiskey. "I'm not begging..." Claude nodded softly before he leant closer still, Noah could feel his stubble graze his chin lightly and as his hands scrabbled for a better purchase on Noah's, he leant his full weight again Noah. Moments later, he felt Claude sit on his thighs, still pinning his wrists to bed, still leaning intently with a dangerous look in his eyes. "I told you there were two ways, Rookie. You chose the hard way..." A chuckle escaped his lips whilst Noah remained expressionless. Eventually, Claude had given up, but he went to sleep that night safe in the knowledge that Noah Bennet had more than enjoyed their little wrestling game.

The Third; Claude and he had been away for a week, a week that had seen them argue, drink and eventually bag and tag. They had both decided to stay in the cheap motel for another night, as both were too beat to drive home. Claude had brought the drink and Noah had brought himself, and that was all they had needed. Eventually, on the stake outs, Noah had managed to convince Claude to let him drink; it hadn't taken much, especially after he saw how much more fun Noah was with a couple inside him. In the recent missions, they had both drunk too much and had too many close encounters with each other but this didn't stop them cracking open the second bottle of Whiskey that night. "A job well done, bloody well done Rookie. Could have done with you know, finding him a bit sooner but..."  
"Don't pick holes in it, we sorted it didn't we?" Noah smiled as he pursed his lips and raised the bottle, feeling himself relax as the alcohol washed over him. Claude pulled off his jacket and dropped it on the floor, grabbing the bottle back from Noah; he greedily poured a generous helping down his throat. "Yeah, it's not water you know. Ease up on it." Claude shook his head and tipped the bottle to the ceiling. His laugh echoed around Noah's head as he watched Claude spill it down his shirt. "Bloody hell, another good shirt ruined."  
"Well, you'll just have to take it off then..." Whether he had meant for it to come out the way it did, Claude would never know, nor would he ever care as he ripped the buttons free rather than trying to fumble about undoing them. Noah stood up, to take his jacket off and Claude took the lead, dropping the bottle on the bed, he strode towards him and pushed him against the wall. Claude forced both his hips and lips against Noah's and took great pleasure in the fact that he didn't recoil in the first few moments. He did feel Noah's frame stiffen against his body for a brief second, before Claude pushed further, sending his tongue into Noah's willing mouth. His hands became tangled in Noah's shirt, but he was shocked when Noah's hands drifted down the buttons and helped Claude undo them in record speed. Only pausing for breath, Claude continued to shove himself against his partner, while Noah raised his hands to Claude's hair. Tugging affectionately but firmly, he was able to get enough leverage to push Claude against the wall in his place. "Oh, I see. You're one of those controlling types eh Rookie?"

Noah merely hissed through clenched teeth into Claude's mouth before his hands snaked down to his belt buckle. "And not one for waiting either Rookie, where's the bloody fire?" Noah had wanted to tell him about the fire that burnt in his belly, one that only seemed to be fuelled by Claude's presence, except he never got that far. Claude grabbed the belt loops on his jeans and pulled him as close as possible, before sliding his palm down from his belt buckle, revelling in the moan that Noah forced into his mouth. "Better be careful now, Rookie, you are showing just how much your enjoying yourself... " Noah's words caught in his throat as he tried to speak and all he managed was a strangled groan in its place. "Aha, bloody good, aren't I Rookie?" Noah pulled back from a topless and very excitable Claude and uttered "Don't call me Rookie, I have a name." Claude simply chuckled and pushed Noah against the wall, watching as his shirt fluttered open to reveal a body that had certainly taken a battering over the years. Bruises old and new decorated his skin and semi healed cuts lined his torso, but they didn't stop Noah as he cupped Claude's face in his hands, kissing him softly. Claude knew how he wanted it to end, and Noah knew how he wanted it to end, but it was a case of being brave enough to act on those feelings.  
Noah pulled him closer, kissed him harder and let his hips buck against Claude's. "I take it you're enjoying this then, Rookie?" Noah matched his grin and moaned softly, throwing his head back ever so slightly as Claude trailed his tongue over his collarbone. "God yes, don't stop." Claude chuckled and ran his tongue down his chest, getting lower and lower he felt Noah's knees buck helplessly. "Come on, over to the bed Rookie."  
"No, I'm fine."  
"Your bloody knees went weak then; you think I'm going to bloody balance if you topple over? Not bloody likely Rookie. Now come on, over to that bed. I'm not asking, Rookie." Something in Noah snapped. Sure, he wanted this, he had felt this way about Claude for a long time and hadn't had the guts to act on it. But this wasn't about how he felt, it was about being constantly called 'Rookie' by Claude ever since they first met. He had asked, begged, and told him repeatedly about the name calling, but Claude continued to mock him and this was the straw that broke the camel's back.  
Noah's fist connected with Claude's jaw, the force carried him back against the wall and the unceremonious crack his jaw made followed by the slight yelp of pain would have alluded to a lot of pain, possibly even a broken jaw. "What the fuck..?! I think you broke my bloody jaw, you brute! What was that for?!" Noah simply rubbed his angry and now bloodied knuckles before saying softly "If we are going to do this, you call me by my proper name." Not waiting for a reply, he forced himself against Claude, kissing him hard and pressing a hand against his arousal.  
Sliding to his knees, he took Claude's arousal and with expertly positioned licks the next thing from Claude's mouth made him smile. "Oh God Noah, don't stop, Noah..."


	5. The Everlasting

And as the flashback ended, both men looked at each other and saw the smiles on their faces. Noah's faded faster than Claude's but it was the invisible man who spoke first. "I remember, the day after that amazing night...You very nearly told all to Sandra, the guilt tore you apart, didn't it?" He could only muster a nod, afraid that if he spoke, his tears would give him away. "She asked me, if I thought you were playing away, you know?" Noah looked up, another pained look flashed on his face.

"She...she did?"  
"Yeah, she said that you'd been distant with her, hadn't shown much of an interest in her and you certainly weren't your usual self in the bedroom..." Claude paused for a moment, toying with a joke but deciding against it. "But I set her straight. I told her there was no way you'd play away, you were the most respectable, loving husband going, you just had a lot on at work..." Claude cut himself off as he noticed the tears sliding down Noah's face. For once, Claude didn't know what to say to stop Noah from sobbing, so he did what any decent human being would have done.  
He stepped into Noah, pulling him into a tight embrace. Noah rested his head on Claude's shoulder and let the tears flow freely. Claude felt each and every sob wrack Noah's body and he felt awful. He felt wretched because he didn't know what to do, or what to say. Well, strictly speaking, there was one thing he would have been willing to try, but he didn't think Noah was into voyeurism, and a rooftop never was the best place to try anything for the first time he concluded to himself. "Take the pain away, please Claude...I can't take it anymore." Noah whispered softly, tears still sliding miserably onto Claude's shoulder. It was then he knew what he had to do; he had to get Noah off the roof. The longer they stayed there, the worse Noah felt and he wasn't in the best frame of mind as it was.

"Come with me, let's go somewhere, anywhere. Let's just get off this roof, yeah?" He didn't hear Noah reply, he just felt the other man shake his head. "Staying up here isn't helping...Noah, please come with me?" Noah said nothing, so Claude left him no choice. Loosening his grip on him, Claude took him by the unharmed wrist and they both shimmered out of view. He led Noah down what felt like a thousand steps and along the sidewalk, it was only then that Noah realized they were invisible. "What are you doing..?"  
"I'm taking the lead, taking you to somewhere I can clean you up." Noah said nothing, he just hung his head and allowed Claude to lead him down a back alley and into a house. "Who owns it?"  
"That's not important, come on, let's get you comfy." He led Noah upstairs and sat on the bed with him before he let his wrist drop to his side. Noah reappeared first, Claude shortly afterwards, clutching bandages and a damp flannel. He placed them on the nightstand, before he slipped his hands under Noah's jacket and watched as it slipped off his shoulders. Claude knelt on the bed, between Noah's legs and pushed him back against the sheets gently. Instantly, he was jolted back to each and every time they had been together. Neither of them could deny how amazing it had been, and as he leant forwards he crawled up Noah's body, he felt like he had never been away.

"What are you doing..?" Noah asked softly, although he was aware of what was about to happen.  
"Use your brain Noah, what does it look like?" He silenced him before he could say whatever it was he was about it, as his lips crashed into Noah's. Without waiting for a retaliation or permission, he forced his tongue into Noah's mouth and felt the pressure build in his chest. Claude pressed himself against Noah, who simply embraced it by shoving his hips forcibly against the younger man's. Claude felt Noah against his stomach, he wasn't going to lie; he'd missed it and he needed more than the friction of his trousers against his. "I've missed this..." This time, it was Noah who silenced him. He moved his hand to Claude's belt and popped it effortlessly. In the same instance, he managed to undo the button on his pants and pull the zip down completely before Claude even realized what had happened.

Saying nothing, Noah pushed him onto the bed next to him and scrabbled to free the buttons from their restrictive holes. Smiling gently, Claude's fingers moved nimbly over Noah's shirt and slipped each button out before he pushed it down to his elbows. Noah didn't bother to take it off, as Claude had already started work on the white tee he wore underneath. Although the pain bit at his wrist and damaged fingers, Noah managed to slide Claude's pants to his ankles in one smooth motion. "It's been so long." Claude agreed, before he wrapped his lips around Noah's. With one hand, he stroked Noah's chest, the other worked its way under Noah's boxers and came into contact with his arousal. Smiling heartily, Claude removed his mouth from Noah's and travelled south, coming to rest at his groin.

Noah's groan confirmed to Claude that he hadn't lost it after all their time apart, and he remembered fondly the last time they had done this; the day before it came out that he had betrayed the Company. Noah had hated himself for it afterwards, but he couldn't change the past, and more importantly, he never would as it was all too mind-blowing, each time he was with Claude. Noah's hand reached out to Claude's own arousal as he continued to work his magic, but Claude felt too far away, despite being as close to him as could be. Noah grabbed his shaggy hair and pushed him further down. Claude didn't protest, he simply let out a pleasured groan instead.  
Some time later, still basking in the afterglow of climax, Noah turned to face Claude. Neither man had got dressed, or moved since they had made passionate love, which had been long since overdue. Noah smiled softly as he took Claude's hand in his "I think I'll take you up on that offer now..."  
"Mmm?" Claude replied, still groggy from their earlier activities.  
"I don't need anybody else, I've got you. You are all I could ever need and then some." Noah's smile was infectious, as it spread to Claude he said softly  
"That's fine by me, but let's get you patched up...You're bleeding all over me." A chuckle escaped Noah's lips as he pulled Claude closer and kissed the top of his head.


End file.
